Deceit Within the Unaccepted
by Kaitzee
Summary: (originally 'Deceit') Harry did a horrible thing in the past... can Draco forgive him?
1. Chapter One: Anger and Lies

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Deceit

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By Kaitzee

Chapter One: Anger and Lies

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"Does it honestly, truly matter what happened two years ago?" Harry said pointedly, his voice rising.

"Yes, in fact it does, Harry!" Draco yelled back, throwing his arms into the air in a fury.

"But the fact still remains that it was two years ago, in the past, not here in the present or anywhere in the future." Harry said. Being rational was a talent of Harry's, whereas Draco was the exact opposite. Draco let out how he felt without a moment's thought on how he hurt other people until it was too late.

Draco shook his head and scowled, beginning to pace a four-foot line in front of the kitchen table that Harry was sitting at. Harry was in a white undershirt and jeans, having just woken up fifteen minutes ago, when Draco woke him up in a rage.

Every memory of deceit, every memory of cruelty Harry had bestowed upon Draco rushed back to him, his blonde temple-length falling gently in his red face, his hand raking it. The small crimes, the Hogwarts scandals… the time Harry insulted his mother… the time Harry punched Draco when he wouldn't listen to Harry's explanation as to why he was home late… the time where Draco was drunk off his ass and Harry ignored his hangover the next day by treating him like a disease…

Then there was this. This evil, committed exactly two years ago, the day before Draco had asked Harry to marry him. The day before Harry said yes. The day before Harry made Draco the happiest 22-year-old male alive. The day before Harry destroyed everything. Everything. He turned away from Harry in resentment and disgust.

"You're so different, now that I know you too well." Draco said quietly, his anger growing.

"What? No! It was an accident, I'm not like that anymore.. Draco, listen to me, you're making a mistake. Please listen to me before you-"

"SHUT UP!" Yelled Draco, turning around and pointing his wand threateningly at Harry. "Those type of things don't happen as accidents. Quit lying before I have to hurt you."

This threat silenced Harry. He was too scared to speak, to move, in fear it would either make Draco cruse him or leave him. Harry usually had his way, being The Boy Who Lived and whatnot, and was unsure how to make the situation better.

His eyes blazing under a furrowed brow, Draco turned to grab his coat, not caring if he was in his thin flannel pajamas. "I need to leave. I can't stand this. See you tomorrow, or something." He put his wand in his pocket, turned, opened the door and slammed it shut.

The silence was deafening, a buzzing in Harry's ears, his eyes burning with tears of guilt. If only he could have controlled himself better those mere two years in the past… his past, Draco's past.

Draco stomped down the stairs of the apartment building in the village of Hogsmeade, his rage not lessening, for the memories were as fresh as the new problem he now faced. He just couldn't believe… his Harry. His loveable, innocent hero, charming Harry. His husband. His lover of two fun and eccentric years. It was those amiable green eyes, and not the charismatic kind of attraction; the charm of a snake charmer, Draco being the swaying snake in Harry's basket, Harry's eyes being the flute.

A tear fell from Draco's gray eye. The snow glistened on the clear night and the air was chilly and crisp. A perfect night for revenge. Revenge, for a crime, a single and horrible deceit, committed approximately two years ago…

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*Read and Review!* Doesn't this chapter just make you pissed off, because you're absolutely oblivious to the reason why Harry's guilty and Draco's innocent? Is there even such a possibility?? I mean, you'd think Draco would be the culprit, him being an evil ex-Death Eater, whereas Harry's the hero, wouldn't you? Though, I must say- Harry was perfectly heartless in the thing he did to his poor Dracie, that evil little man. You'll get the flashback once I finish **_Chapter Two: Quidditch and Hormones Don't Mix_**.


	2. Chapter Two: Quidditch and Hormones Don'...

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Deceit

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By Kaitzee

Chapter Two: Quidditch and Hormones Don't Mix, Part One

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The air was cold and crisp that morning. The gray sheet of clouds covered the sky, the autumn leaves of early November swirled around in the wind, making Harry's cape billow behind him. He looked about the empty pitch, his emerald eyes scanning the familiarity of it. The three golden hoops, the green grass, his new broomstick, the rush of adrenaline flying gave him. Right now, both of his feet were on the ground, much to his impatience; he was waiting for the team captains, Fred and George Weasley, to emerge from the locker rooms to discuss the game tactics.

Earlier, about three years ago, the Montrose Magpies wanted to hire a brand new team, since the old ones were found using magic on their brooms to make their play better and were all kicked off. So the owner, Professor Golem, asked some of the Gryffindor team graduates of 1997-1998 to be the new team. Harry, being the team captain, of course agreed and signed on. They retained the Magpie's reputation of being the best with pride. 

Of course, when old Oliver Wood, who was 20 years old at the time, heard that his old team had been the extremely lucky ones to get the Magpie Contract, he flipped out and celebrated with the Gryffindors. He had been one of the three Chasers for the Appleby Arrows since his graduation. Though, he was a bit miffed that Cho Chang was the replacement Keeper, a surprise. Though, the owner did like staring at the young women of his new team, so when Cho asked if she would be the Keeper he had to agree. Lucky for them she was a good player.

So, now that Harry was set until his very later-on retirement and was on a team that he had loved since his first year in Hogwarts plus an old crush, he was content. Oh, did I mention, he had a steady _boyfriend_?

They were both naturally straight men, Harry and Draco. It was one of those things that fate brought together; they both just fell in love, gender didn't matter. Besides, despite both being men, the sex was great! Draco Malfoy, 20 and beautiful, with his slim, organically firm body, was sitting with Ron and Hermione in the stands. They came to every practice, every game, every tournament. Since seventh year, Draco had become close friends with the Dream Team. 

"He does this every time," Ron said fondly. "He comes out five minutes early and stares around the pitch."

"Yeah. Isn't he beautiful?" Draco said indolently, his chin in his hands and mouth curved in a small smile, staring at his beau. Ron's and Hermione's eyebrows arched.

"Duh he is, he's Harry Potter." Ron said in that fond sort of way again.

"Draco's daydreaming and saying his thoughts without thinking rationally, Ron." Hermione pointed out, her eyes rolling again. "Something you do quite often."

"Bite it and bury it, Herm." Ron spat. "And dolt could see that, I was just throwing my two cents in."

"Another one of your unfortunate habits, Ron." Hermione grinned.

"Let's talk about you, Mrs. I'm-Now-A-Transfiguration-Professor-At-Hogwarts-So-I-Brag-Every-Time-I-Draw-Breath," Ron said sardonically. Hermione's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to retort…

"See how his raven hair sways softly in the flowing wind," Draco commented dazedly. Ron's and Hermione's eyebrows arched. Draco was an artist, and it was quite obvious when he spoke.

"I think he's lost his marbles." Ron said, nodding his head.

"You never had marbles to begin with," Murmured Hermione, turning to her briefcase to grab the Transfiguration Papers (_"Explain the Importance of Transfiguration in Three Feet or More"_) that needed correcting. She plopped the hefty stack of papers between her and Ron and took out her red ink and quill. She also smartly put a paper weight on the reports so they wouldn't blow away in the fall wind.

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"I heard that, Herm." Ron said angrily. She didn't respond, she just kept her mouth in a stanch line as she checked and circled mistakes and added helpful comments to her hundreds of pupils on their reports. 

"I can't believe this is only a fifth of the papers I have to correct," She muttered to herself. "I brought at least two hundred fifty reports." Ron rolled his eyes, her vague boasting annoying him.

"He's a painting, just by peering around a pitch," Draco said, cocking his head slightly to the right in thought, his gaze not lifted from Harry.

"Oy, Love Sick Puppy!" Ron said, poking Draco in the nose. Draco seemed to come out of a trance; his eyes focused and his smirk reappeared.

"What? Sorry?" Draco asked Ron. "Did the game start?"

"It'll start in an hour," Hermione said, checking her watch. "So the stands should start filling anytime now, and the teams should start warming up."

"All right." Draco responded. He straightened his back and began to crack his knuckles. Ron leaned back and crossed his arms, looking at Harry.

He then looked at Draco, who was busy trying to make his middle finger crack while staring at Harry again. "Hey, Draco, are you going to do it?"

"With Harry? Hell yeah, but I don't think that's any of your-"

"Ew! No, no, I meant, are you going to do… y'know, ask? The thing you were going to ask?"

Draco grinned and looked at Ron. "Tonight."

"No wonder, you're all dreamy and fading." Ron grinned, his deep-brown freckles and eyes brightening with his expression, his auburn hair tousling in the wind. "Did you finish the painting of Harry?" He then asked, and as soon as he did, the first dozens of Falmouth Falcon and Montrose Magpie fans began to fill the stadium.

"Which one?" Draco asked, his smirk almost turning into a genuine smile.

Ron chuckled. "You know the one. The one where he's decked out in his Magpie uniform with a plain white background? Aren't you giving him that one as an engagement present?"

"Yeah, it's finished, and it's his gift…" Draco's voice trailed off as his smirk faded into a repentant line, and he looked at his hands.

"Draco?" Ron asked, his face full of concern. "What's the problem?"

**__**

*

The stadium now had a little more than one hundred people in it, and about two thousand more to come. Harry sighed, and then a finger tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned to face Fred, behind him were George and Angelina carrying the box of balls, and the rest of the team behind them. All with their Firebolt Infinities on their shoulders.

"Ready, Harry?" Fred asked, a grin on his freckled, handsome face. In his hand he had three poster boards, obviously tactics and strategies for the upcoming game.

"As ever." Harry smiled. George ran over and put his hand on his brother's shoulder, and grinned at Harry.

"You look extremely tense," He said, his confident smile staining his mouth, identical to Fred's.

"Really, I do?" Harry looked himself over. His uniform, identical to his team's, were black and white with magpies gleaming on the front and back. He looked back up at the twin captains. "I look okay to me."

"Your face is more set than usual." Fred said.

"Your eyes are duller." George added.

"Your fists are balled."

"You-"

"I get it, I get it!" Harry grinned. "But, really, I'm fine."

"Sure?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's just this little thing, no big deal." Harry assured them.

They looked at him skeptically, but when Fred and George clapped his hands together three times and shouted, "All right, Team! C'mon, get over here!" at the same exact time, as usual, the subject was dropped.

The Chasers, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell all ran over, their hair tied back into loose and messy buns and excited grins, with Cho behind them. Her hair cut into a feminine boy-cut, so her hair worries were non-existent, though her face was resolute and nervous. The Beaters, Fred and George, plus the Seeker, Harry, were all gathered in a huddle. When George began to speak, the other team flew out of the Visitor Team locker room and began to warm up for the actual game.

"All right! The first time we've ever played our first game of the season at Home! What do you guys think about that?" George said happily, with a few shouts of agreement from the Magpies. "Right. But, unfortunately, we're playing a rather violent team."

"George isn't kidding." Fred said. "They've been nicknamed 'The Cobbers'. We all know what Cobbing is, right?" He said, then told them even though they knew, "the extensive use of elbows towards opponents? If any of you do this and get called on it, you're in it. Big time."

"Though if you know you can get away with it, please do it." George told them, being serious. Quidditch was the one and only thin Fred and George were serious out, following in Oliver Wood's footsteps.

"Anyway." Fred nodded, then took out the first poster board, the Training Schedule. "Here- Chasers, have you practiced the Reverse Pass?"

"The easy one where we throw the Quaffle over out shoulder to another team member? We've perfected it." Katie Bell said, her outgoing nature making her a bit overconfident. She was brunette, built, and her tinted red eyes gave off a fiery glow.

"Well, there's only a few overestimated tosses, but we've _nearly_ perfected it," Alicia said quietly, her shy nature correcting Katie's opposite persona. She feared everything, especially being wrong and other people, her gray eyes sharp as her white-blonde hair.

"He gets the point." Angelina said to them. A bit bossy, a bit self-righteous, but overall nice, that was Ms. Johnson. Built, black and proud. "What's next?"

"What about the other two moves you're been working on?" George asked them.

"Well, we've worked on the Woollongong Shimmy so much that we can do it _way_ better than the Australian Woollongong Warriors." Katie said, making a poised fist, her voice certain.

"How can you _say_ that? They invented it! If one of their fans heard you say that, they'd kill us!" Alicia said fretfully.

"You guys, shut up!" Angelina said impatiently, glaring at them. Katie stuck her tongue out at Angelina, whereas Alicia shut up. She turned back to Fred, "We've also worked pretty hard on the Porksoff Ploy, me being the lead and Katie being the receiver-"

"Which I can do pretty damn well!" Katie interjected.

"Maybe you're exaggerating," Alicia said.

"Shut. The. Hell. Up." Angelina told them once more, her glare even making Katie only raise her eyebrows challengingly. She turned back to Fred, "That's about it."

Fred and George, eyebrows raised, stared at the girls for a moment before moving on. _Crazy females_.

"Anyway, moving onward…" George said delicately, afraid that if he made a wrong move, Katie and Angelina would jump him while Alicia screamed and flipped out. "Cho?"

Cho was a beautiful woman. A full figure eight, with pouty pink lips and ivory skin, making any man weak in the knees. Her russet eyes gleamed with excitement and nervousness. "Yes, Fred?"

Fred blushed, her beauty making him a bit more excited than he should have been, "According to the Training Schedule I have on this here poster, the Chasers are working on time, but how have you been? I think I only gave you one move to work on, right?"

Cho looked momentarily confused. She was a bit slow. Then, she realized what Fred was talking about. "Oh, the Double Eight Loop?"

"Yeah." Fred nodded, his eyes on her large chest. Cho didn't notice.

"Yes, I can go about fifty miles per hour while pacing and dodging the three golden hoops. Whew, was I sweaty the other day! Practicing for about three hours straight! I was so hot... Want me to tell you about it?"

"Please?" George and Fred said at once. Cho opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Katie kicked the twins both fiercely in the shins.

"We've got a game to plan, Weasels!" She shouted. "No time to fantasize over Miss Hooker VonSlut over here!" She shouted at them, both yelling in pain, grabbing their shins. Cho looked confused once more.

"Katie, you really shouldn't curse at the captains like that.. And now you might have effected their game play by injuring them!" Alicia told Katie anxiously.

"You guys are talking again? Jesus, can we hurry this up so we can practice? Christ!" Angelina cursed, throwing her broomstick down and glowering at them all threateningly. Once again, only Katie dared to rise to the challenge.

"Do you want to mess with me?" Katie asked her, putting up a fist.

"Try me, bitch," Angelina told her.

"Ladies! Please, we're… ow… trying to plan a game, here!" George said, straightening up, and brandishing the Training Schedule at the team again. Then he looked at Cho, who was still confused. "Thank you, Cho." Fred nodded.

"Uh-huh!" Cho replied happily.

"Now. Fred and I have worked on our moves, the Bludger Backbeat and the Doublebeater Defense. We've pretty much got those squared away." George told them all. "Harry, as our Seeker, what have you been working on?"

Harry half-smiled confidently. "I think I've perfected the Wronski Feint. I mean, I've been doing it since I was fourteen…"

"Oh, God, he said the 'P' word…" Alicia said apprehensively, covering her face with her hands.

"You're so lame!" Katie said to her.

"Quit being a bitch!" Shouted Angelina.

"Stop arguing!" Fred shouted. "Go on, Harry."

"…and I read about the Plumpton Pass. I've tried it, and it's a bit difficult. But if I really put my mind to it, it's just as easy if I had put the Snitch in my sleeve with my hand. Also, there's a gesture I've read about…"

"Been reading lately?" Cho said in a purr. She could make any action, such as vomiting, sound sexy.

Harry blushed. "Yeah, _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Anyway, there's this thing…"

"Slut," Muttered Katie, not meaning for it to be heard.

"You're so rude!" Alicia said angrily.

"You guys! Harry's trying to talk! Now stop being rude, Kate, and listen!" Angelina said, a sound of being earnest in her intimidating voice.

"…it's called the Transylvanian Tackle. It's is a fake punch aimed at the nose. As long as you don't actually punch them, the move is not illegal, though it's difficult to pull off when both teams are on speeding broomsticks." Harry finished quickly, glad the Training Schedule of the Team Talk was over. The Chasers were always very ornery before a game, and it felt like forever and a day just to get through this.

"I don't think we should attempt that move just now, seeing as we just learned of it." Alicia told Harry, but smiling at him admiringly. "Good suggestion, though."

Harry smiled back. "Thanks, Alicia." Alicia blushed.

"Finally! Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you people? That took a bloody half an hour!" George scolded them. "Now we've only got a half an hour to practice. That's it. A meeting will be called after the game for a chat."

Harry looked at George in alarm. "George, I can't, I've got a previous engagement, I-"

"Sorry, Harry. Since the Three Stooges over here were bickering, we've got to have a meeting out it, so we can overcome this and only take the 10 minutes needed to get through a damn Training Schedule Check, y'know? It's frustrating." Fred said angrily.

Harry's face fell. "All right." He said unhappily.

"Hey!" Shouted Cho. The team all looked at her in surprise. "I'm not a slut, Katie!"

**__**

*

"I haven't got a ring to give him, just the painting." Draco admitted to Ron.

Ron looked at Draco. "So?"

"So?!" Draco snapped. "I want to marry him, and what do I have to show to him for it? A doodle! I… I just couldn't afford it. The one I wanted to give him, anyway."

Hermione looked sympathetically at Draco. "What was it?"

Draco's smirk did melt into a smile this time. "A golden band with tiny emeralds studded around it." Draco traced a small circle into the air, as if touching the special ring he was speaking of. "It reminded me of his eyes, his beauty."

"Okay, that settles it- you're absolutely ga-ga, head-over-heels, eating-out-of-hand in love with the man." Ron confirmed, a grin lighting his features.

Instead of her face glowing with happiness, Hermione looked worriedly at the blonde. "Draco, Harry's… well, he's used to having things his way now. Being famous has gone to his head… a little."

Draco and Ron looked furiously at Hermione. "Excuse me?" Draco asked.

"No, I still love him, he's the perfect person in many ways, but… it's hard to explain." Hermione said, trapped, wishing she hadn't said anything. "Since he left the Dursleys, and the Wizarding World has spoiled him with love and admiring, he's begun to take things… for granted."

"What?" Ron said hotly.

"Example? Ron, remember when you bought us those banana splits at Hogsmeade last week?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah?"

"He sent it back because his had nuts in his. The waitress sent it back without question. Ron, if that had been us, the waitress would have told us that the damn banana split came with nuts, to eat it or leave it with a big tip!"

Draco and Ron looked back at her in disbelief.

"Never mind, I wish I had never said anything." Hermione said, blushed, and looked back to her reports.

*

"_Sonorus,_" Mumbled the aged commentator, a retired Magpie who was Captain of the team from 1957-1968, named Hamish MacFarlan. His voice was a deep but clear rumble, and he spoke lively. Rumors were he had gone senile in his old age. "Welcome, ladies, gents and monkeys, to the opening game of the Falmouth Falcons and the Montrose Magpies!"

The crowd cheered. Draco clapped his hands above his head, Ron waved a Montrose Magpie flag and Hermione cheered excitedly.

"Home team, for the first time in three years, I give you… the cast of Dawson's Creek!"

A confused silence overcome the stadium.

"Oh, uh, excuse me, I stand corrected… thank you, Mr. Golem… Home team, for the first time in three years, I give you… _the Montrose Magpies!_"

The Magpie fans cheered and screamed as if MacFarlan's weird mistake hadn't been made. From behind the players, a huge flock of magpies swooped into the air, rose high into the sky, and finally exploding in black and white fireworks. The stadium _ooohed_ and _ahhhed_. Looping the loops and doing other tricks while flying around the pitch, the Magpies soared into view, smiling and confident, as MacFarlan shouted their names: "Weasley, Weasley, Bell, Spinnet, Johnson, Chang, and… _Potter!_"

"And the Visiting Team, I give you… _the Falmouth Falcons!_"

The Falcons fans cheered, the Falcons themselves slapping themselves onto the field, decked out in their dark-gray and white uniforms, the falcon-head emblem across their chests. Then, a falcon the size of a horse emerged from the Visitor Team entrance, did a lap around the stadium, and burst into a shower of dark-gray and white confetti. "Owens, Milliner, McCall, Sampson, Jones, Kent, and… _Linden_!"

Harry, who was doing an impressive dive, steadied his Firebolt Infinity and looked up at his opponent, the other Seeker, Linden. For a moment, he blushed. He thought Linden would be a man, like the rest of the Falcons, but Linden wasn't.

Linden was tall, thin and brunette. Her gray-blue eyes sparked with excitement, as if flying were what she ate, drank and slept. She had a womanly figure, a bit lax on her stomach, but her beautiful face made Harry ignore that. She had thin red lips, a small nose, and a nice sized chest. She smiled and winked in Harry's direction, and he waved back.

"The teams take their positions."

The referee was a nameless middle-aged man. "I want a nice, clean game, and no Cobbing, Falcons!" He shouted at them. The Falcons rolled their eyes. The ref opened the chest of balls next to him, opened the Golden Snitch compartment, and out it flew.

"The Snitch had been released."

The ref grabbed the Quaffle, looked up at the players, and threw it up high. Johnson swooped, and caught it. She zoomed towards the Falcons' hoops just as the ref let out the Bludgers.

"The Bludgers have been released, the Magpies in possession, and the game begins!" The crowd cheered animatedly, screaming, shouting, clapping and stomping their feet.

Johnson dived slightly under McCall, a Falcon Beater, looked to her left, and saw Bell. Bell waited expectantly, Spinnet trailing her, just in case they needed back up. The Falcons' Chasers, Sampson, Owens and Milliner, were closing in on Johnson. Owens was so close to her than he could have fouled by Blagging (seizing an opponent's broomtail to slow or hider).

Suddenly, as if Johnson had been pulled magnetically upward, zoomed straight towards the sky at an incredible speed. The Falcons' Chasers now lagged behind by a few feet, desperately trying to catch up. Their cloaks billowed out behind them like flags, their team numbers shining.

Catching the Falcons' Chasers by surprise, Johnson stopped in midair, using her momentum to carry her a few feet to the left so she wouldn't ram into the opposing Chasers. Without hesitation, she threw the Quaffle down as hard as she could down to Bell, who was a great distance below her.

Just as planned, Bell caught the ball impressively with a truckload of confidence, sped towards the Falcons' hoops, where the Falcons' Keeper, Jones, was caught by surprise upon Bell's attempt to score. But, her speed nearly failed Bell as she came too close to the hoops when she scored, nearly committing a foul due to Haversacking (hand still on the Quaffle as it passes through one of the golden hoops).

"Johnson, making a near-foul due to Blatching ("_What?!_" Exclaimed Johnson, who didn't even have the mere thought of meaning to collide with the Falcons' Chasers) did a good job of the famous Chaser move, the Porksoff Ploy. Bell, nearly fouling due to Haversacking, gains the Magpies ten points, thus the score being ten to nothing, the Magpies in the lead!" MacFarlan croaked, and the Magpie fans once again praised their team with screams and applause of exhilaration. 

Harry yelled and grinned, happy that the Magpies got the first goal. Smiling but alert towards the search and capture of the Golden Snitch, his emerald eyes scanned the pitch around him. 

George whacked a Bludger away from Harry and towards Milliner, how now was in possession of the Quaffle. The Bludger had made contact: it knocked the tip of his Firebolt, tipping his broom downward and causing him to drop the Quaffle in surprise and fear as he clutched his broomstick to stay on it. Luckily, Alicia was right under him, and she caught it before passing it to Angelina, who once again sped towards the Falcon's goal hoops. Relieved, Harry flew to the middle of the pitch, did a loop the loop in order to find the Snitch.

Quite suddenly, Harry felt a fast and hard tug downwards, his broom nearly bucking him off. He flipped backwards, nearly falling off his broom. His natural-born Seeker reflexes saved him; he grabbed on to the staff of his Firebolt Infinity. He looked around to see what or who knocked his broom, when a whistle blew.

"Penalty to Montrose, for Blagging!" The ref called.

Harry looked up and saw Linden hanging off her broom by her legs, reaching down to him.

"Grab onto me, looks like you need help." She said, her face mocking. Her voice was alto and spirited.

Harry looked at her with fury. He swung his legs around and he sat safely back on his broom. She smiled at him, her eyes glowing with a mysterious glint, and she flew off towards her own goals. Harry glared off after her as he rose twenty more feet into the air.

A cheer from the Falcons' side told Harry that they didn't get the penalty. His eyes wondered over to Linden, who was doing her own searching. Curious, other Seekers Harry was usually up against kept a close eye on him, instead of doing their own Seeking.

Then… yes, there… Harry saw a glint of gold, and heard the fluttering of tiny wings. He looked over to his left, and right below him, about eighty feet.

He dove.

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*Read and Review!* The fear of people forgetting this story existed worried me, plus I'm having trouble keeping it going, so I decided to chop chapter two into two parts. For those people who reviewed, thanks, you are insane people, but I love you just the same. ^_^

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Queenie- Lol, sorry about that… thanks anyway.

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Marlene- Ok, I'll improve in the future chapters, and I hope you'll read this anyway.

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destinywriters- Ahh! I will, I will! WEE!

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Mouse Misfit- DAMN! I was hoping it was unable to be guessed. Ah, oh well. ^_^() Thanks!

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OzCrow- *takes out a whip and evilly laughs* MUAH HA! Thanks, I'm hurrying!!


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